Undercover Lover
by knives4cash
Summary: Detective Lie Ren goes undercover for a weapons deal, attempting to catch the elusive princess of the Nordic Mob, Nora Valkyrie. Meanwhile, Nora has a more personal interest in her new client. [Written by knives4cash as a gift to DinasEmrys, author of "Premium Well"]


A gift from myself to the author of "Premium Well" DinasEmrys' for his "Vigilante" AU.

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"I never was a fan of warehouses, but in my line of work I tend to spend SOOO much time in them," she begins as we stroll into the dark, dry, and somewhat dusty installation. "You'd be surprised, actually! This one time, I had to work late with the guys and I ordered some pizza, just four basic old cheese pizzas."

She talks so much and so cheerfully for a mob princess. Organized crime tends to be more somber, but I suppose she's a princess for a reason. Once we get to the targeted zone, she might change her tone. For my own ears' sake, I wouldn't mind.

"And wouldn't you know it, the poor delivery boy came in with six of these boxes for me and the guys, and he just HAAAD to drop them when he saw us with all of the guns and stuff!" she complains with a laugh as I lead her down the corridor of storage crates. "We had to kill him, but it was REALLY funny, trust me."

Ugh. Just keep walking. One high-heeled foot in front of the other. I swear, these Chinese imitation robes are going to be so dirty by the end of the day, what with all the dust in this awful place.

"Y'know, I never could get the hang of heels, but you walk like you were born in them. And you have such a mysterious taste in fashion, too! Those green robes with that black hair? And that single strand of pink is just so appealing! I know you're a fairly successful weapons smuggler, but have you ever considered being an escort, Miss Boulentine?" she asks with a smile, red curls bouncing along with her step. "I could certainly use a few pieces of eye candy that aren't Liberal Arts graduates, and if you wore something a little more low cut and revealing you could make a handsome sum of cash AND bedfellows!" she ends with a laugh.

Finally, we're here! A single, overhanging light illuminates the scene of a large, unmarked crate, surrounded by walls of storage units. And a conveniently placed crowbar lies on top of the dusty, wooden lid.

"Anyways, you have my card if you ever want to work part-time, there's plenty of work for a woman so easy on the eyes as you are!" she finally finishes and frolics over to the prize. "So, like you requested, a sample of the goods!" Quickly moving to appease her customer, she pops the lid and sends it smashing to the ground. "Behold!"

She withdraws a grey, cylindrical firearm that's almost as big as my torso. Rotating the massive chamber in the center, she cocks the hammer and aims it upwards.

Never have I been more happy to hear the sound of a weapon on empty.

"The most cost-efficient, size-efficient, explosive weapon on the black market! I present to you, the Magnhild! One discharge is all you need to blow up any law enforcement vehicle, get through any barrier, and send any person in any direction in any number of pieces!" she proclaims, zealously advertising her product. "And all at the low, low price of seven-thousand lien! Buuut because I'm feeling so young and alive today, I'll cut the price down to five-thousand per unit and throw in a free munitions dump of two-hundred rounds IF-"

She pauses for breath, something I thought she would never have to do at this rate.

"You let me show you how great my table manners are at The Castle this Saturday at four," she offers, trying ever so hard to be flirty. "How about that, Miss Boulentine?"

A simple, revealing smirk is all I need to offer for her to frown, slouch, and groan.

"You have got to be kidding me," she mutters.

"FREEZE!" someone finally shouts, emerging from her cover at long last. "Nora Valkyrie, you are under arrest for attempting to sell illegal firearms, the murder of a pizza delivery boy, and just about everything else you've done as a member of the Nords crime syndicate!"

"Detective Pyrrha Nikos," she grumbles, turning to face the redhead and hoisting the grenade launcher over her shoulder. "It's so good to see you again! How's your hand? I do hope I wasn't too rough on it with the wood chipper."

A simple protrusion of the middle finger is proof enough, I suppose. "I got better."

Nora looks back to find that I've drawn my own handgun. "Even your gun is green! You have such a good sense for fashion!"

"Just stay where you are," the detective orders as she comes out from her cover. "I've read you your rights plenty of times, Nora. But this time, you're coming in with us."

"I just can't get my game on, can I?" the boss complains as she carefully places the grenade launcher back in the crate. "You won't accept my offer for coffee, and I'm guessing Miss Boulentine won't be dining with me on Saturday."

"I'm afraid not," I reveal.

She pauses. And looks me up and down. Oh, that's a blush.

Oh, that's drool.

"Ack, sorry!" she coughs, wiping her mouth. "You're just so-" she ends, at a loss for words.

Chuckling, Pyrrha reveals, "I'm terribly sorry about your single status, Valkyrie; but it's against department policy for us to fraternize with criminals." Stepping forward, she draws the handcuffs. "MISTER Ren won't be available either. Now show me your hands."

"Oh, I beg to differ, sister!" she laughs as she pulls out a metal backpack of some kind and promptly smacks Pyrrha- oh, snap, I should act!

Drawing a bead on her torso, I level my handgun. "Drop it, Nora-ack!" Blech! Pfft, stupid jetpack fumes! Confound it, I can't see! "Pyrrha!"

"I'm okay!" she shouts in the midst of the chaos.

"And I'm out of here!" Nora shouts. "We'll meet again, Mister Ren, and we'll do it over wine next time!"

A deafening roar, and I can barely hear Pyrrha shouting over the ringing in my ears.

"Not again!" she curses, kicking the crate as the smoke finally clears, leaving us with nothing but failure. "We're going after her!"

"How?" I ask, truly puzzled. "She's wearing a jetpack. Even an eighth of a tank could get her sixty miles away from here, we'll never catch her."

"No, I mean that we'll catch her this Saturday," she clarifies, much to my personal disappointment. "You're going to show up in a tux, and you're going to get her AWAY from her weapons, gadgets, backup, even her own clothes if it means catching her once and for all."

"I'd rather not," I let her know, just so she knows, that's all. It's not like I'm just so excited about going on a dinner date with one of the most powerful crime syndicates and potentially dying a horrible death.

"I'll put your opinion in my report," she informs me, smiling as she starts walking out. "You can ride shotgun in my car or walk back to HQ, I don't care."

You really need to get laid, Pyrrha. Maybe that Jaune kid will come in handy after all.

And of course, I'm still dressed as a woman, wearing makeup, heels, and fake breasts. The guys back at the station will just get a kick out of this.

On the bright side, I won't be wasting any of my time on Basebook.

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Please be sure to stop by and have a gander at the rest of DinasEmrys's stories. He's a capable author with the knowledge and skills to write proper prose.


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